The Reckoning
by SamDreams
Summary: Sequel to "A Dream Come True." Dean struggles with guilt over his feelings for Sam, and Sam helps him overcome his hesitation. Wincest. Rated M for a reason.
1. Doubts in Darkness

**Author's Note****:**

This is a sequel to "A Dream Come True."

I wasn't going to expand upon "A Dream Come True" when I first wrote it, but I changed my mind. Instead of adding chapters, I decided to put this story up separately instead.

This story takes place the night and day after "A Dream Come True."

_**WARNINGS**_: _Wincest (as usual), and Weecest (Sam is sixteen). Warnings in Chapter One for adult language. Chapter Two will have a new set of warnings, so please pay attention to them as the story progresses. :)_

Reviews are warmly welcomed and appreciated. To all of you who have followed, favorited, or reviewed my other stories or me, thank you very much!

**~*~*~ The Reckoning ~*~*~**

Chapter One: Doubts in Darkness

Dean lay awake in the dark motel room listening to Sam's steady breathing. One of his younger brother's bare legs was thrown across both of Dean's, and his head rested on Dean's chest. Sam had drifted to sleep with Dean's fingers in his hair, Dean absently stroking and twirling the little curls on the ends of the strands around his strong fingers. It seemed nothing in the world calmed Sam faster than having Dean's hands buried in his hair. Dean smiled. He really loved that, though he'd probably never admit it to Sam. It was just one of many unspoken truths that both brothers knew but never talked about with each other.

He wished that his mind were as quiet as Sam's, but it wasn't. They'd spent the last few hours with limbs entwined, mouths and hands all over one another. It had been the greatest sexual experience of Dean's life, sans actual sex. _Thank God I said no. Thank God we didn't actually go that far_. He knew he hadn't just enjoyed it because of the physical things they'd done. It was because it was with Sam. And it was wrong. So horribly wrong.

He sighed and tried to shift a bit to get out of bed. Sam whimpered in his sleep and wrapped his arm tighter around Dean's waist. So instead, careful not to wake his brother, Dean gently rolled Sam onto his other side and spooned against his warm body from behind until he quieted again.

After dropping a light kiss on his brother's shoulder, Dean carefully crawled out of bed. He didn't bother to put on any clothing. He crossed the room to the mini refrigerator and pulled out a can of Coke. Glancing around, he found the half-empty bottle of bourbon on the table. He popped the top of the Coke, took a few long swallows, then set the Coke down and opened the bourbon. He poured a healthy splash of alcohol into the can and swirled it around. Dad wouldn't approve of him drinking as much as he did. A few celebratory beers now and again after a hunt didn't bother him, but if he knew Dean used a fake ID on a regular basis to buy alcohol, John Winchester would put a stop to it.

Dean took a long gulp of the bourbon and Coke. _That's not all Dad wouldn't approve of_. Dean blushed hotly at the memory of Sam's cock throbbing in his mouth. He scrubbed his face with his fingers and scratched them through his hair. "Take care of Sammy." The golden rule. The mantra. Dean's whole life that was the one thing that Dad had told him, over and over. But he didn't have to tell his eldest son to take care of Sam. Dean did it because he wanted to. Because he needed to. He would do anything, kill anything or anyone, to protect his baby brother.

He shuffled to the loveseat and plopped down onto the cushions. Yet he hadn't protected Sam from the one person who did him the most harm. Dean took another drink. What the hell had he been thinking? Why had he lost his control? Sam was innocent in this. He should be going out on dates with girls or guys his own age, not…not…Dean couldn't catch his breath. _I should've stopped it. I should've said we can't do it. I should've done 100 things that I didn't do. Instead, I encouraged it. I led him right down the path we never should've taken. _And now what? What would happen in the morning when Sam woke and Dean had to tell him all these things? Tell him how sorry he is for letting the entire thing get so far out of hand. Tell him they can't do it again. _It's for his own good. It's for my own good. _He downed the rest of his drink.

He could already imagine the expression on Sam's face. Just the idea of having to cause that expression lanced his heart and stole his breath again. Suddenly he felt tears welling in his eyes. Hurting his little brother would be torture; but, it wasn't nearly as soul-shattering as the idea of not being able to share that kind of closeness with Sam ever again.

The realization tore at him, and his tears fell in a steady stream. He hated to cry. He hated himself for allowing himself the weakness of tears. But he couldn't stop them. He didn't really want to. He needed to let it all out now so that in the morning he could be strong for Sam. For both of them.

Sam stirred and reached for his brother's warmth. Finding only cold sheets where Dean had been earlier, he opened his eyes. Still dark, he noted. Then he heard it. Crying. Brow furrowed, he bolted upright and looked around the room. Crying?

"Dean?"

Surprised, Dean gasped mid-sob and cleared his throat. "It's okay, Sam. Go back to sleep." He tried hard to make his voice sound normal.

Sam knew better. He threw back the sheets and got out of bed. He found Dean on the sofa and sat down beside him without a word.

He could probably count on one hand the times he'd seen Dean cry in his whole life. If he did it more often, it was never where Sam could see it. And each time Sam had seen it, there was always the same underlying reason: Sam. Something had happened to Sam, or Dean thought something had, or Dean was upset about saying or doing something to his little brother that he later deeply regretted. So he instantly knew exactly what was going on in his big brother's head after their time together earlier.

Sam rested his hand on Dean's knee and waited.

Dean licked his lips and took a long breath to compose himself. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's okay," whispered Sam. Still he waited without saying anything.

A few minutes passed, and Dean's breathing returned to its regular pace. He fought back a sniffle. "Really, I'm fine. You should go back to sleep."

"I can't."

"Why not?" Dean asked in a soft voice.

Sam reached up and brushed his thumb across Dean's cheek, wiping away the wetness. "Just 'cause."

Dean struggled not to let out another sob then. _How am I ever going to do this?_

"I didn't like my dream anyway."

Grateful for what he thought was a change of subject, Dean said, "What was it?"

"I was dreaming about all the times we've had to move. All the schools, all the new kids. All the times I've felt like an outsider, or a freak. My whole life all I've wanted to be is normal, and it's the one thing I've never been."

Dean wasn't sure what to say. He was considering the best response when Sam kept talking.

"I finally realized something yesterday."

"What?"

"I'm not normal. You're not normal. Dad's not normal." He took a deep breath. "Dean, our lives are about as weird and messed up as two lives can get."

Dean had no argument there, so he just let out a soft half-laugh of agreement.

"I've spent so much time trying to figure out why I always feel so awkward and out of place. Why I'm such a misfit, and why I don't feel I belong anywhere." Sam leaned closer and kissed Dean's forehead. "And yesterday I figured it out." He brushed his mouth across Dean's lips. "I only feel right when I'm with you. You're my normal."

Dean closed his eyes. "Sam…"

"Dean, every single aspect of our lives is different from everyone else's. Why shouldn't our relationship be different, too? I don't care what anyone else thinks. Fuck the rest of the world."

Dean couldn't suppress his smile at his brother's declaration. He desperately wanted to argue. He wanted to tell Sam that their "normal" isn't anyone's normal. People don't get arrested for normal behavior. But he couldn't. Sam had a point. Damn it, the kid had a point. They lived on the edge of death every day. They'd seen hundreds of things that couldn't be explained. They didn't have regular jobs. They didn't have a home. They didn't get paychecks. They didn't pay taxes. They didn't have friends, just acquaintances, and most of those were hunters, too. They weren't normal. They would never be normal. So…hell yeah. Why shouldn't this just be another part of their abnormal, unusual lives?

"Come back to bed with me," urged Sam, and he stood up and held out his hand.

Dean hesitated. Still the doubt niggled at his brain. Was he rationalizing it to suit himself? Just because it was their normal didn't mean he shouldn't think of Sam first. Put Sam's life and future before his own. He should say no. He should sleep on the sofa. He should be strong enough for both of them.

But it was Sam. And Dean knew better than anyone that he only had one true weak spot—Sam. He could never seem to say no to his brother, and most especially about this. Not when he wanted it so very badly himself.

Dean took hold of the proffered hand, letting Sam help him to his feet. "Okay. Let's get some sleep," he answered softly.

They both climbed into bed. This time it was Sam who spooned against his older brother and wrapped his arm tightly around Dean's middle, pulling him close. He kissed the back of Dean's neck.

"Sam?"

"Hm?"

"Did you really have that dream?"

Sam smiled. "No."

"Too damn smart for your own good."


	2. Succor at Sunrise

_**WARNINGS**_: _Wincest (of course), and Weecest (Sam is sixteen). _

_Chapter Two contains adult language __**and**__ explicit sexual content. _

Reviews are warmly welcomed and appreciated. To all of you who have followed, favorited, or reviewed my other stories or me, thank you very much!

**~*~*~ The Reckoning ~*~*~**

Chapter Two: Succor at Sunrise

Sam woke before Dean but didn't move right away. He lay still, watching his big brother sleep. Dean was on his back, his bare chest rising and falling with even breaths. One calloused hand rested on the sheet beside him, the other draped across his midsection. Sam propped his head against his hand and studied the way Dean's eyelashes fanned out across his freckled cheeks. He smiled. Dean's short, light-brown hair was already kissed by the sun, even though it was only May. By August, it would be nearly blond like it was every summer. Sam fought the urge to kiss his brother's full

lips-those perfectly shaped lips that could do all sorts of luscious things.

"Stop staring. It's creepy," Dean murmured, his eyes still closed.

Sam grinned. "Sorry."

Dean cracked one eye open and looked at his brother. "How long you been awake?"

"Not long."

"Mmm." Dean closed his eye again.

"Sleep well?"

"Mmm," he said again. "'Cept you stole the covers all night."

"Did not!"

Dean opened his eyes again and looked at Sam. His little brother's dark hair was deliciously mussed. He couldn't hold back his smile. "You need a haircut."

"No way."

"Can't believe Dad lets you keep it that shaggy."

"It's not shaggy," argued Sam, patting the wayward locks down with his free hand.

Dean suddenly rolled over and pushed Sam onto his back. He settled himself atop his little brother and ran his fingers through Sam's hair, messing it all up again. "It's perfect," he said in a sleep-husky voice.

Sam wrapped his arms around Dean and shifted his legs so that Dean's muscular thighs fell between his. Dean already had a morning hard-on, and Sam's cock instantly responded to the weight pressing down into his groin.

Sam lifted his head to brush his lips against Dean's. "I love feeling your weight on me," he whispered.

Dean blushed at the frank statement but didn't respond. He rubbed his cock against Sam's, loved how its hard heat created a delicious friction against his own. He lowered his head and kissed his little brother.

It was a slow exploration at first, just teasing and licking those plump, dark pink lips. Dean nibbled the corner of Sam's mouth, pulling his lower lip between his teeth to gently suck, then released it again. He rubbed his lips back and forth against Sam's, just enjoying the moistness, the fullness. Then he dipped the tip of his tongue into Sam's mouth, just barely entering before pulling it out, over and over until he heard Sam whimper. When he delved deep, Sam's tongue melded eagerly with his.

Dean wondered if he could possibly come just from kissing Sam. It was almost a religious experience, or at least, what he imagined such an experience would be like. He couldn't believe how breathless it made him, how he suddenly felt like he was drowning. One moment he was sure if he didn't pull away he would die, but the next he knew if he stopped it would kill him.

Sam's hands moved up and down Dean's back, then into his hair, then stroked his arms before starting all over again. Goosebumps tripped down the length of his body and he pressed harder against Sam's hips, matching the thrust of his hips to the thrust of his tongue into his brother's mouth. God, he tasted so good. Nothing had ever tasted this wonderful. No one would ever taste as good as Sam.

He pulled back. Resting his forehead on Sam's chest, he whispered, "Wait."

Sam stroked Dean's hair, trying to catch his own breath as well. He was happy for the break. Much more of that and he'd have lost control and shot his load far sooner than he wanted to.

When Dean didn't move for a full minute, Sam whispered, "You okay?"

Dean nodded against his chest. Finally he looked up at Sam again. "You know, there was something we didn't get around to doing last night."

"A lot of things, I imagine," Sam replied with a twinkle in his hazel eyes.

Dean gave him a lop-sided grin. "You know what I mean."

Sam nodded but said nothing.

"You know, if we do that…"

"When we do it."

"Sammy, I'm serious. If we do that, there's no going back."

Sam studied him for a moment. "Dean," he said very softly, reaching up to trace Dean's eyebrow with his fingertip, "There's already no going back. I will never change my mind about this. I might as well try to stop breathing."

The statement was a palpable hit to Dean's heart—the one he tried so desperately to keep armored against any emotional overload. Leave it to his Sammy to bust it wide open and release tidal waves of emotion. Dean looked away and cleared his throat hard to regain his composure.

"Dean?"

This brought his eyes back to his baby brother's face. He didn't answer, just raised his eyebrows and waited.

"This…what we're doing…it's not just sex for you, right? I know you've had a lot of sex, but this isn't like that. Is it?"

_Jesus_. That expression. That loving, worried, uncertain, adorable expression. "God, Sammy, what you do to me, I swear," he said in a rough voice, and claimed his little brother's mouth hotly, invading it thoroughly until both of them were breathless all over again.

Dean pulled away. "You're trying to kill me," he muttered, then let out a light laugh.

He had always had such a hard time opening up and talking about his feelings. Sam did it more often, but still not all that much. Dean knew it was only because he knew Dean didn't like to talk about or analyze things. Or, even more likely, Sam feared the teasing that might follow. Dean was ashamed to admit he'd done more of his fair share of teasing Sam for expressing his emotions over the years.

"Listen to me," whispered Dean, all trace of humor gone now. "This is more than just sex. Much, much more."

Sam's face brightened and split into a grin that warmed Dean to his toes. He smiled back. "I don't know what I'd do without those dimples," he murmured. He bent down and kissed each side of Sam's face. "I mean it. I swear I don't know what I'd do without you, Sammy."

Sam pulled him down for another kiss again. "Then make me yours. Really, truly yours. Forever."

Dean kissed his nose. "One minute." He climbed off of Sam and walked over to his duffle bag. Rummaging around, he finally found a tube of lubricant. He popped into the bathroom to grab a clean washcloth, then returned to the bed and sat down beside Sam.

"Have you ever…y'know. Yourself?"

"Have I ever fucked myself?"

Dean laughed. "Yes."

"No," answered Sam with a grin. "I was waiting for you to do it."

"You might've been waiting a long time if you hadn't had just the right dream." Dean stretched out beside his brother again.

Sam caressed Dean's cheek and leaned over to kiss him again. "Worth the wait."

Dean removed the cap from the lubricant. "We'll need to get you ready first."

"I'm ready."

"You are so NOT ready."

"I am, too. I've wanted this forever."

"Mentally ready, yes. I mean physically ready. We have to get you a little more stretched out first."

Dean poured some of the liquid on his fingers and rubbed them together to warm it. Then he wrapped his fingers around Sam's cock and slowly stroked it, slicking it with lubricant. "Feel good?"

Sam nodded, eyes closed. Dean moved his hands to Sam's balls, rolling them gently in his fingers. Sam moaned his approval. "You like it when I do that?" asked Dean, knowing the answer but he wanted to hear it.

"Yes."

Dean pressed and fondled Sam's balls for a bit longer before pausing to put more lube on his fingers. He slid his forefinger between Sam's ass cheeks and slowly maneuvered to his target. He found it and Sam spread his legs open wider, pressing his hips upward in a silent plea.

"Not yet," Dean crooned in a reassuring voice. "Let's go slow." He circled the puckered entrance, barely pressing against it and then withdrawing.

When he finally slipped his fingertip inside his baby brother, Dean leaned forward and took Sam's cock in his mouth. As he pushed his finger deeper, his mouth sucked Sam's shaft until it pressed against the back of Dean's throat.

"Oh my God," gasped Sam. He felt Dean's finger entering, felt his body resist at first, then felt the pressure deeper inside, after the muscle relaxed and allowed the finger in. "More, Dean. Please."

Dean worked his finger very slowly back and forth, in and out, until Sam was panting. Very carefully, he pushed a second finger inside to join the first. Sam bucked in surprise. Dean's tongue wriggled along the underside of Sam's cock as the second finger pushed all the way inside. Sam let out a loud grunt. "Jesus. Dean… oh, God."

Dean pulled Sam's cock out of his mouth long enough to whisper, "You like that?"

"Yes. Dean, please. Want you."

"Not quite yet, Tiger. Patience. Almost there."

Dean scissored his fingers as he slid them in and out of his brother. He flicked his tongue across the tip of Sam's cock and licked a path down to the base, then moved lower to draw one of his balls into his mouth. Sam emitted a loud groan, thrusting upward.

"One more finger first." Dean worked a third finger inside Sam. God, he was tight. "Relax, Sammy. Relax for me," he coaxed.

Sam forced himself to relax. When Dean pressed the third finger past the initial ring of muscle, the feeling of discomfort was immediately overridden by unbearable pleasure. All Sam could think about was having Dean fill him up. He wanted to feel Dean's cock buried all the way to the hilt. Wanted to feel Dean come inside him.

"That's it," Dean whispered, and sucked Sam's balls into his mouth again as his three fingers scissored and thrust slowly in and out of his baby brother.

"Please, Dean. Please. Want you inside me. Show me what it feels like."

Dean came undone at that, and carefully removed his fingers. Positioning himself between Sam's legs, he rubbed a generous amount of lube on his hard shaft and then shifted to get the right angle. He lined up the head of his cock with Sam's entrance and nudged forward. It was agonizing to go this slowly. Sam was so tight Dean thought he might lose it before getting even two inches inside.

He took a steadying breath. "Sammy, relax for me," he whispered. He leaned forward and kissed Sam's chest. "It's okay. Just need to take a deep breath and relax."

Sam nodded and willed the tension out of his body. Dean's cock slid deeper, and Sam felt the resistance give way. It was a strange sensation, unlike any he'd ever felt. It sort of hurt, but it was a good hurt. He lifted his arms, wanting Dean to bend down.

"Almost there," Dean assured him, easing the last few inches of his cock inside. Finally he was completely buried inside Sam's ass and he leaned down to kiss him.

Sam moaned. "Feels so good. More."

Dean chuckled softly and bit Sam's collarbone playfully. "That's all there is, Bitch."

Sam grinned and smacked his brother's ass. "I meant move, Jerk."

Dean pulled out just barely, then slid fully inside Sam again. "Like that?"

"Stop teasing. Please. Fuck me, Dean."

Kissing Sam's mouth softly, Dean pulled his cock almost all the way out and then gently slid it back in all the way. Sam whimpered. "Like that, Sammy?" whispered Dean.

Sam nodded, pulling Dean down for another kiss. Dean worked his shaft very slowly in and out like that several times, easing in and out to allow Sam to get used to his size.

"Harder. Make me yours."

Dean had to rein himself in to keep from exploding just from hearing Sam say those words. Gasping, he withdrew and thrust forward harder this time. Sam grunted his appreciation. "Yes. More."

Dean slid his shaft out and back in again, picking up the pace. Now with each thrust forward, skin slapped against skin. Both boys were covered with a sheen of sweat. Sam grabbed at Dean's ass, pulling him forward in time with his thrusts.

Pleasure grew in Sam's groin, deep down from somewhere he'd never felt before. He whimpered and wrapped his legs around his brother. It was so good, so perfect. Dean's cock filled him up. It was the missing puzzle piece he'd needed for so long.

He pulled Dean full against him and buried his face against his brother's neck. Dean pumped hard and fast, his thick cock withdrawing and then splitting Sam open again and again, each time better than the last.

Dean pushed Sam's long legs up until they were resting on his shoulders. He thrust harder and Sam cried out at the new angle. Something was different this way, even better than it was. He closed his eyes and felt the pressure build each time Dean's cock sank deep inside.

"God, Sammy…so tight. Your ass feels so good around my cock." Dean leaned down and bit Sam's neck hard. He pulled back and licked the pink mark he'd left, then sucked against it. "You're mine, Sammy. Mine."

Sam arched back and let out an appreciative mewling noise. He shifted to give his brother better access to his neck. Dean took advantage, this time sinking his teeth in harder, holding the flesh firmly between his teeth while his hips ground against his baby brother.

Sam moaned louder. Each thrust of Dean's cock was touching something deep, something that took his breath away. The combination of Dean's mouth and teeth claiming his neck while his big brother's cock thrust relentlessly was too much. He needed to come. His cock throbbed and dripped against his belly. Dean's body pressed against it but it wasn't enough friction to bring Sam over the edge.

"Need….please. More, Dean. Please…" panted Sam, now writhing beneath him.

Dean reached around and found Sam's cock, squeezing the hard shaft in his hand. Sam emitted a groan of appreciation and tried to thrust in time with both Dean's hand and hips. "God, yes…so close…don't stop…"

"That's it. Come for me Sammy. I wanna feel you come around my cock." Dean gave the wet mushroom tip a pinch and then two more firm strokes, and that was all it took. Sam cried out, his release spurting from his cock to cover his stomach and chest.

When he felt Sam's body clench and throb around his cock, Dean gave a loud grunt and came, too. He pressed himself as deep into Sam as he could get, letting his orgasm flood inside.

Sam relaxed his legs and Dean let his weight rest on his brother as they both fought for breath. Dean's cock softened slowly but he didn't withdraw it right away. He lifted his head and looked at Sam's neck. Seeing the angry red marks he'd left, he gently laved the area with his tongue.

Sam shivered at the feel of Dean's hot tongue on his neck. He made a noise that sounded almost like a purr when Dean's lips brushed over the tender mark. He relished the feel of his brother on top of him.

When Dean shifted and slowly withdrew from Sam's ass, Sam gave a little whimper of protest. Dean rolled off to stretch out on the bed beside him.

He propped himself up on one elbow and reached out to brush a damp lock of Sam's hair from his forehead. "You okay, Sammy?" he whispered.

Sam nodded and looked into Dean's eyes. "Better than okay."

Dean touched the bite mark on his neck. "I think I got carried away. I hope I didn't hurt you."

Sam shook his head. He lifted his hand and traced Dean's lips with his fingertip, then slowly moved it along his jaw and down his neck. "Yours," he whispered.

Dean pressed his mouth against Sam's and whispered against his lips, "Mine."


End file.
